


Weeks

by grogu-pascal (venusx)



Series: Paz Vizsla Drabbles [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Breeding Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Implied Age Gap, Minor Innocence Kink, Sexual Inexperience, Size Kink, Wife Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29124153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venusx/pseuds/grogu-pascal
Summary: You and your soon-to-be husband consummate your unorthodox arrangement.
Relationships: Paz Vizsla/Reader
Series: Paz Vizsla Drabbles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2123328
Kudos: 102





	Weeks

The mandalorian’s fingers tickle the skin behind your ear as he brushes a strand of your hair back. You can hardly see his figure in the dim room, lit only by a small burgundy lamp and the little light that pours in from the windows. His eyes are covered by his helmet, but you feel them graze across your skin, leaving static in their wake. 

The air is stifling. So humid it feels like it's standing still against you. A lone bead of sweat plumps between your sternum and trickles down between your breasts. You resist the urge to fan yourself: you'd have to uncross your arms, and you aren't sure you feel confident enough under his gaze to do that just yet. So you stand still, stand there bare naked, skin glistening with humidity and pretend not to notice his staring.

Maybe it’s the residual nerves making you feel so hot right now. Maybe it’s the tea they'd given you. Perhaps there was something in it. Maybe it’s how _large_ he is. Thick and tall and much too close to be polite.

Two heavy fingers pull your chin left and right, examining you. A breath halts in your throat. The night rests on this moment, the agreement not yet final until he approves of you. You rub nervous circles against your elbows. He'll smudge your makeup if he keeps this up.

You wonder what kind of girl he had imagined you'd be. Are you pretty? More fleshy? Hair darker or lighter? Is your skin the shade he'd had in mind?

Does he feel the way you tremble in his hold? Has he noticed the wetness that runs down your thighs? 

The weight of his palm hovers over your cheek. Two soft, approving slaps land there. _P_ _at pat._ _Good girl._ The held breath escapes you at his approval. 

Your most base instincts try to goad you into rushing the man, pulling him on top of you and kissing him until your lips bruise, but it has been made clear that being forward will get you no reward here. Your village leader gave you specific instructions on how to behave tonight: _lie down and_ _be useful._

Young and pretty and good enough at following directions, you specifically were chosen for the man in front of you. _These mandalorians are traditionalists,_ your village leader had explained, _rule followers. Your consummation is a ritual. You will be expected to know it._ The stakes are beyond anything you feel comfortable handling, and between anxiety-induced and the throb of your heartbeat in your clit, your memory has failed you on what you're supposed to do next.

A real shame, considering this is all you've been training for the past week. As an offering to the newly established covert on Nevarro, in exchange for you, it's expected that the covert will protect your village from imperial forces. A fair enough trade. Mandalorians suffer a low birth rate, forced to scour planets all over the galaxy for younglings to adopt. You are one of the very few fertile women left on the planet, and the only one with a fertility rate over 60%. In two years, if you follow expectations, you will have birthed more children than the mandalorians have adopted in _five_.

That should embarrass you; make you feel like a breeding cow. And maybe it would if it didn't make you so valuable. That milk might swell your breasts and your stomach, round, makes you priceless to a mandalorian covert. Your nerves twitter with pride.

A finger slides across your bottom lip. It takes everything in you not to lick it. What's taking so long? What comes next? Is he teasing you? **Waiting for you?**

You consider your options, and then, you act. You hope hesitation isn’t written on your face. Slowly, you bring his hand from your cheek to your breast.

"P-please, touch me here." _Is that too forward?_ You add, "if you'd like."

You don't look up at his helmet, instead keeping your nervous gaze at your feet. He waits a beat before rolling your nipple between calloused fingers. Your eyes flicker shut. A breathy moan pierces the silence of the room at the delight his touch brings. "Thank you," you breathe. At least you'd remembered your manners. 

At that, he grabs you in one swoop and lifts you onto the bed. You're smaller than he thought you would be. Younger, too. His brain pumps blood down and down to his cock at the sight of you: hair in frizz against his pillows, legs splayed open, cunt glistening. Such a pretty girl. _You'd be prettier even, with his cum leaking out of you_.

His fingers fumble hastily at his armor, stripping it haphazardly. All but his helmet is removed before he reaches for the lamp switch. He prepares to turn it off, but pauses. No woman has seen in his face in 25 years. He knows it wouldn't be breaking from tradition to show you now: you'll be his wife soon. Reservation still lingers. Settling on a middle ground, he switches the light off and peels off his helmet in the dark of the room. He's been waiting for this quite patiently. He can afford to wait a little longer for other things.

But not too long: per the agreement, the two of you will live together immediately following the consummation. In a months time you are to become pregnant. Ultimately, you're expected to birth at least four boys and one one girl. The specifics of the birthing patterns are a product of his desires: he'd always wanted a large family, large enough to spread his clan name across galaxies. He'd gone so far as to specify a clause in the agreement that stated you would not work, instead caring for the children in his absence. Raising children would be your full-time job.

His mouth nearly waters at the thought.

You feel the bed dip and you squint your eyes until you make out his figure. He's at least twice your size and two full heads higher and for the first moment since entering the agreement weeks ago, you consider that physically speaking...this might not work. His erection presses against your upper thigh, heavy, thick and urgent, nearly confirming your thoughts.

You reach out in the darkness, caressing handfuls of his hair, cut short and so soft. 

“Please,” you beg gently, tugging at the strands.

He lets out a low moan. What a needy thing. _"Rejorhaa'ir ni meg gar copikla."_

Fire spreads across your skin at the sound of his voice, though you can't help but furrow your brow. Perhaps you should have sorted out the language barrier earlier. In lieu of words, you try to pull him down onto you. He doesn’t budge. You try again with the same result. Sexual frustration dilutes into discontent as you see where this might be headed. What you are about to do is definitely not a part of the ritual.

"I want you to touch me here please," you whimper, rubbing circles on your clit. You hear him groan. He understands. That's good. "Need you"—you trace his collarbone with your free hand—"inside of me." You press two fingers into your pussy and pray he can see in the dark, "like this."

You fuck yourself under him, fingers soaking in your arousal, tongue babbling through moans. His attention centers on you and it spurs you on. Self-awareness dwindling by the second, your wanton display brings a blush to your cheeks. When had you become so desperate?

Fingers twice as big as your own swat at the hand working on your pussy. The man holds them out in front of your face. "Spit." 

So he _does_ speak Galactic Basic. You obey, a string of drool tracing from your lip down to your cunt as he proceeds to stuff his fingers inside of you. Your whole body relaxes against the mattress. 

" _Ngh._ That f-feels good," you sigh. Keeping pace with the fingers curling inside of you, he brings his thumb to roll around your clit. You arch your back.

His labored breathing is nearly drowned out in the sound of your ecstasy. He presses another finger into you and you clench your teeth. Slowly, he pulls them back and forth, in and out, up and up inside of you. It's a tight fit, teetering on painful. He continues to play with your clit, providing some relief, but not nearly enough to compensate for the stretching you feel.

As if reading your thoughts, he pulls his fingers out. You clench at the sight of his tongue, lavishing around each knuckle, tasting your slick. He offers them to you and you eagerly open your mouth. As dark as the room is, he's so close now that you look him in the eyes. You hold his gaze as you take his middle digit in your mouth, sucking until it's clean. He pulls your head to him, hungrily, kissing and licking at your lips. You moan into his mouth, "please."

Suddenly, you're turned around, pushed onto all fours on the bed. "Oh!" you exclaim.

"Such a beautiful little thing," he grunts from behind you. He positions himself at your entrance, "and so polite too." 

_"Ohhh,"_ you moan. He feels even bigger than he looks. As he presses into you, you instinctually move away to relieve the pressure, shifting forward on the bed and rising your cunt off of his dick completely. 

"Such an impatient thing, _hm?_ And look at you now. Running away from me." He grabs his cock and positions himself at your entrance once more. An arm wraps around you, guiding you off of your hands so that your weight rests against his thighs. He holds onto your throat gently. 

A wheeze flirts from you as he begins to sink into your pussy again. The weight of his arm forces you downward. He's so big. You gasp and groan as you struggle to take his cock. It hurts in a way you've never felt before: so sweet, so slow.

Only halfway down his length, you whine breathlessly, voice perched with concern. "M-mando? I don't think it's g-gonna fit all the way."

Your words have an unintended effect.

It’s cold water to a flame to hear you call him that, even with a voice so sweet. You're his girl now. Any man could be your _Mando._ And he's not _any man_ to you. He hadn't planned on doing what he's about to do now just yet, but he'd rather fast-forward the ritual than hear your out someone else's name around his dick. Without a second thought, he offers his name to you, a murmur against your neck.

“Paz, sweet thing. My name is Paz.” His ears are hot at the intimacy his confession brings. 

Face filled with worry, you nod. "Yes, Paz. Are you sure it’s gonna fit? I t-think this is as far as I can go.” 

He chuckles lowly. “Of course it'll fit, pretty girl,” he says, taking your hand and wrapping it around the exposed length of his cock. "See?" he asks, "not that much left."

If 'not that much' means the length of your palm, you suppose he's right.

Paz continues to lower you down, speaking over your loudening whimpers, “that's alright. Go on and take it for me.”

“P-Paz!” you moan. He grunts. It feels like you're being split open. 

You brace yourself with a hand on his knee.

Paz barely notices the resistance. He's seated in you now, watching you struggle to take him as he bites back a groan. You've gotta be the tightest thing he's ever been inside. With his cock still buried to the hilt in you, he turns you to lay your back on the bed.

He presses a kiss against your ear, "see pretty girl? I told you it would fit." With that, he lazily begins thrusts his length inside of you.

It's a lot. " _Nghh,_ Paz. Just gimme a minute—"

Your cunt spasms around his intruding size. He slurs incoherent murmurs of praise against the backdrop of your pleading. _"Shh_ baby. Sound so pretty when you're tryin' to take me. I-I wanna be good to you." He wants to add, _and_ _please don't say things like that, it makes me want to fuck you harder_ but he resists. Paz bottoms out in you repeatedly, goaded into arousal by his own filthy thoughts. "Such a good girl. _Fffuck_. I knew you could do it. Was gonna take my time stretchin' you out but you just look so pretty. C-can't help myself baby. I'm sorry. _Hhng—_ s-sorry."

He pounds into your recklessly and the slap of him against your clit builds bright pressure in your core. He is stretching you around him, pistoning into you so hard that your head begins to knock against the headboard. He is feral with desire. You are catching up.

"Tightest little thing I've ever fucked. Makin' me feel so good, baby."

Your whimpers turn into to sighs of pleasure. Your eyes, clenched shut, open half-lidded to gaze into your lover's eyes. Lips parted and drooling with spit, you shudder and moan. 

"You like it when I talk to you sweet girl?" You nod and he groans into your mouth. "Such a f-filthy little thing. Has anyone ever fucked you like this before?" He grips your jaw. "Tell me baby. Talk to me."

"N-no," you answer, voice wavering. "O-only you." Your past lovers have all been more gentle. You don't know how you ever bore it.

A grunt sounds from his chest. "Only me," he echoes. His grip on your throat tightens. He's going to come soon. "Only me. You look so sweet with my cock in you. Gonna make me come. _Ngh._ Gonna pump you full of my come, pretty girl." He props your leg backwards as he fucks you harder. 

Hands wrapped around his biceps, you arch your back in anticipation of the release that builds at his words. With a thrust, his pelvic bone crashes against your clit and you bring his lips to yours, speaking unholy cries against them. “Yes! That feels so-- _ah!_ Yesyesyes Paz, I think I'm—.” You hardly recognize the voice that nearly cries out as you orgasm. 

He steadies you with one hand as he continues fucking into you. The way you pray his name makes him feel electric. The percussion of skin against skin plays off the wetness of your pussy and it’s nearly too much. If he pulled out now and changed positions, he might last a little lon—

You kiss him passionately and tighten your legs around his waist as you come, cunt spasming around his cock. "Paz!"

Paz nearly crumbles at his own release. He planned on waiting the full month before trying for a pregnancy. Tonight, he was supposed to pull his cock out and splatter his cum against your stomach instead.

But when your cunt clenches around him, his cock twitches inside of you and _no, no, no, fuck, fuck, fuck_. He moans at an embarrassing volume, core tightening as he paints your walls with his sticky spend. His eyes flutter shut and stars dance against his closed eyelids. He's never come that hard in his life. 

You fan your sweaty body, and smile up at him. You feel...relieved. Paz collapses over you with heavy breaths. You giggle when he licks a bead of sweat from your neck, but otherwise, you both lie still and silent, completely content. After weeks of anxiety, you finally feel at peace. 

**Author's Note:**

> Rejorhaa'ir ni meg gar copikla = Tell me what you need


End file.
